The cherry trees
soaked in rain,
the valley skies
wrapped in gray.
I watch with faith
like a druid of old,
talking quietly
to the broken earth
of my body.
Where bones grind
the lesson go slow
takes form and speaks.
Patiently I wait
with the cherry trees,
roots sunk beneath
the pavement,
drawing up beauty
from the soil
I’ve been given.
Reading “Where Bones Grind” with music by Netherland Bach Society
Thanks, Don — Drawing up the beauty we’ve been given is all that matters. That’s all there is.
Co-sign, what Lloyd said. Making something beautiful from the raw materials around us.
Like a shaman of olde, I’ll patiently pause to speak in perfect time (quietly, yet persistently) to my “non-physical” (though still hovering) Soul substance: “Ascend alive in this earthen space, alight off the shoulders of my body’s obedient, yet ephemeral crust of dust.” A sublime time to ascend is Now!
Don, from the beauty of your poems alone, it is clear that you have been drawing up a disproportionate share of of what’s down in the soil. Thank you for today’s offering.
Go slow…that is the key.
True to the marrow!!
Thank you Don!!
Thank you, Don. One of the most nourishing aspects of earth’s regenerative systems is the slow, steady movements of glacial grinding rock, releasing life supporting minerals essential to healthy soils and flora and fauna, called glacial flour. The lesson, indeed, to go slow, are aptly portrayed by the timeless movement of glaciers.
Thoughtful, poignant – and peaceful. Thank you.